


Danger Wanking

by kathkin



Series: Summerpornathon 2010 [10]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-22
Updated: 2010-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-17 22:52:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For challenge 7 at the 2010 summerpornathon: solo sex. </p>
<p>Arthur is very bored and must find a way to entertain himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Danger Wanking

He could hear Merlin in the next room, humming to himself as he wandered around, water sloshing back and forth in his bucket, and the knowledge that he was only feet away had thrills running up and down Arthur’s spine.

It had been a long, restful fortnight, with no monsters or evil sorcerers or tournaments, nothing but a few minor land disputes and council meetings and training. The weather was beautiful. His father was in a good mood. It was the kind of thing Arthur thought wistfully about every time someone tried to kill him.

Of course, he was bored out of his skull. Especially on the days when he got through all his duties in the morning and found himself left with a long afternoon to fill up. The novelty of finding out what Merlin did with himself when Arthur wasn’t around had worn off very quickly.

By the fifth day in a row, he had discovered his delightful new pastime. He sat on his bed, bare toes curled in the rug, one hand tucked into his breeches, the other clenched in the sheets. He stroked himself, quiet, sometimes frantic, sometimes slow and teasing.

Outside, he heard Merlin sigh and mutter, and his prick jerked in his hand, eager. Merlin was _right there_. If he were to open the door, to see Arthur like this, he would, he’d… he’d stand and stare, shocked, mouth hanging open, ears burning red as he flushed. He’d mutter apologies and back out, but it would be too late, because he’d already have seen his own name on Arthur’s lips…

Arthur bit back a moan, sped up. He had to be quick. Merlin could come in at any moment.

Except he never did. Merlin tended to stay out of the bedchambers when Arthur was hanging around. He stayed outside, where he could get on with his duties in peace. Unless Arthur called him. Unless.

The idea flitted across Arthur’s mind, then latched on, unfurling, terrifying and arousing all at once. His prick jerked again, precum beading at the tip, and suddenly he _wanted_. The words were out before he could stop himself.

“Merlin,” he called, voice as even and calm as he could manage.

The sound of Merlin’s humming stopped. “What is it now?” he shouted back.

“Come through here, will you?” said Arthur, stroking himself more slowly.

“Can’t it wait?” said Merlin. “I’m cleaning your windows, _sire_.”

“Now, Merlin,” said Arthur. He sped up, movements become erratic. He was so close. Just from the sound of Merlin’s voice. _Oh God_.

Outside, there was an exaggerated exasperated sigh, the sound of a cloth hitting the surface of the water, and Merlin’s footsteps, coming closer and closer and closer to the door. Arthur kept his eyes fixed on the handle even as his vision blurred and his hips began to jerk up, up, of their own accord. _Oh God oh God._

He came just as Merlin reached the door, biting down hard on his wrist to keep from yelling, then wiped his hands on the pillows and leapt up from the bed, grappling with his breeches.

Then the door was open and Merlin was standing there, blinking at him. Arthur stared back, wide-eyed. “Ah,” he said. “Ah.” He inhaled, trying to catch his breath. “There you are, Merlin.”

There were suds all over his hands. That was not sexy. Suds were never sexy. Not even on Merlin. “What did you want, _sire?_ ” said Merlin.

“Oh, right,” said Arthur. “Because I… called you. Yes.” He cleared his throat. Merlin blinked again. Shrugged.

“Are you alright?” he said slowly, cautiously. “You look a bit flushed.”

“What? No, I’m fine,” said Arthur. “Absolutely fine.” He grabbed his boots from the floor and thrust them at Merlin. “Polish these for me, won’t you?”

“I polished those for you yesterday,” said Merlin, folding his arms. “Was that really so urgent, Arthur? I was up to my elbows in water!”

Arthur could see that. Merlin’s elbows were poking out of his rolled-up sleeves, damp, shiny. He threw the boots at Merlin, rolled his eyes when he fumbled them. “If I say it’s urgent, then it’s urgent,” he said. “Don’t be so lazy.”

“I’m not the one who’s lounging about in my room all day,” said Merlin. His eyes flicked to the rumpled bedding, the stained pillows, and he frowned. Arthur cleared his throat and took a step to the side, hiding it from view.

“Get on with it, Merlin,” he said. “Those boots won’t polish themselves.”

Merlin turned away, muttering to himself about how _bloody boots don’t need bloody polishing_. Once the door swung closed behind him, Arthur sank down onto the bed, lay back, satisfied smile spreading over his face.

Oh, yes. He was doing _that_ again tomorrow.  



End file.
